Crash and Burn
by pignapoke
Summary: The first time Sam cries after Jess's death is in the car. Oneshot.


Crash and Burn

--The first time Sam cries after Jess's death, it's in the car. 

Dean hasn't seen Sam cry since he was a little kid, when he was Sammy. He was this innocent little boy who could do no harm in the world, and falling off his bike and scraping his knee was like the apocalypse. He'd cry quietly, but consistently, and the only person who could wipe away his tears was Dean, because Dean wiped them away and kept them away. 

Dad always found crying to be a weakness, and although Sam had tried to break free of everything Dad had taught them growing up, the fact that tears were useless was instilled in him at an early age, and he tried to be stoic at all times. He didn't stop completely though. Every once in a while, when he'd fall or hit his head, it'd be Dean's job to get him to stop, since Dad wouldn't, couldn't. Sam would curl up next to Dean and bury his face in his chest and Dean would rub his back and tell him it was okay until he stopped. Dean had always fixed it, made it better.

But when Sam went off to college to do his own thing, alot of Dean's jobs became Jess's jobs. When Sam was stressed from school, or when something reminded him of leaving Dean and Dad, Jess was the one who held him, and made him feel better. She was the one who wiped away his tears, and kept them away. 

A big part of Dean never understood how Sam could live his life as a lie. Jess had no insight on Sam's past and she had no idea that the 'monster in your closet' was a real danger. How could he love her as much as he did if she simply had no clue? 

Dean didn't know about Sam and Jess, didn't know he had a girlfriend until he showed up at his apartment and scared the shit out of him. Dean didn't know anything about Sam's life after he left. He didn't call, he didn't let him know what was going on, and Dean didn't put forth that effort, either. So all those times Sam needed someone, all those memories, were pushed back into their minds. 

Now it seemed Dean had no words. Hell, if they had been on speaking terms these past two years and everything was peachy keen, he'd doubt he'd have words anyway. This was something Dean had never had to deal with. Sure, he had lost his mom and it impacted him greatly, but Sam was a big boy now. Sam could process this, could feel it sear through his heart like a bullet. And Dean had no idea what you could say to that to make it better. They were silent until the next day.

Sam was up before Dean was, and it made the older Winchester wonder how much sleep Sam had gotten. Probably none, if he knew his brother at all. When Dean looked over at Sam groggily, his expression was completely blank. Even though they were out of California, it felt like Dean had to pull his brother out of the fire again. It still burned. He watched him for a while, tried to make a mental note of anything and everything that would help him save his brother from the anguish he was going through. He still didn't have words though, and the only way he knew how to help his brother right now was just to show him that he was there for him. Always.

It surprised Dean when Sam told him he wanted to drive. It was random, out of the blue, and completely unlike his little brother. He had worried that maybe Sam would use the car as a getaway, to escape all of this, but it dawned on him that even though Sam had wanted revenge on this bastard, he wouldn't leave. The anger had burned a hole in Sam's stomach by now, burning him like the fire burned Jess. But driving around might help him clear his head, and Dean agreed and tossed him the keys. The worry still shined through his eyes, though, and he only hoped Sam could see that. 

Sam took the keys and merely walked outside in a way that made Dean feel like it hurt Sam to even walk. His tall frame sulked out the door, and Dean had never felt so useless in his entire existence. He waited.

Sam's hair still smelled like smoke. After Dean had taken him back to a motel, he showered until the water was like ice, and washed his hands more times than he could count, but it still lingered. It mocked him. 

He ran a finger across the dashboard, warm from sitting in the sun, and jammed the key into the ignition. The Impala roared to life and Sam just started driving to nowhere in particular. He didn't really care at this point. 

Everything was too quiet, no matter where he drove to. The radio had been long ago turned off, and the silence was almost too much for him to handle. But even the smallest thing like noise would make him remember. He'd always remember. 

When it got to be dark out, Sam knew he had to go back. He was close to empty, anyway. There was nowhere left to go but home, if you could even call it that. So he started driving back when the car stuttered and sputtered. Maybe he should have filled the gas tank earlier. He pulled over to the side of the road and wearily told Dean what had happened. 

It'd be another hour until Dean got there. He'd end up hotwiring a car to get to him, but he'd make it. So Sam climbed back into the Impala and rested his head on the steering wheel. Nothing seemed right anymore. 

Sam wished someone, somewhere, would cut him some slack, just this once. After he left Dean and Dad, he had those mixed feelings, like nothing good would come out of his decision. But Jess came along, and to say it was something 'good' would be an understatement. He couldn't handle knowing that she died for him. 

Tears spilled out of his eyes without his permission. He swiped at them angrily, but they only came back. And this time, he let them come. He couldn't do anything but cry at this point. He didn't know how to grieve. He'd lost alot in his life, but nothing like this. Nothing like Jess. 

When he lifted his head up, he wiped away the tracks of tears left behind on the steering wheel. He waited patiently for the next half hour, thinking about late night foosball games with Jess, smores in the middle of the woods, and getting tangled up in a mess of sheets before big tests the next day. Jess was his rock, and when you take someone away like that, you can't help but feel like something's missing. Like there's a hole in the left side of your chest, aching. 

He didn't want to fill that hole up, so he let it be. He let it burn him like fire. 

When Dean came to pick him up, he didn't say a word. He just told Sam he'd get the Impala towed and everything would be fine. Except it wouldn't be fine, and they both knew that. Sam rested his head against the foreign window-"I'll bring the car back, they won't even know it was missing."-and let the hole in his chest throb painfully. Dean said nothing about his red-rimmed eyes. 

When they got back to the motel, Dean still hadn't said anything, and Sam made no effort to say anything either. He kept himself determined, focused. The bastard that did this was going to pay. In fact, the revenge was the only thing keeping him going at this point. He'd find a way.

When Sam stepped out of the shower that night, he didn't smell the smoke anymore. 

(fin.)


End file.
